Page 67 of The Heart and the Hawthorn

Dian chuckled, her pleasure reflected on their flushed face. ‘There aren’t.’

Frida blinked. ‘We aren’t in England anymore?’

Dian’s smile broadened. ‘We are . . . somewhere in between.’

Frida let out a low, impressed moan. ‘Cool!’ She leaned her head back, breathing the delicious heat into her lungs. ‘How long can we stay?’ she whispered.

Dian lifted a shoulder, continuing to smile as the steam billowed through their hair.

It was Moth who answered softly, ‘As long as we need. Here, there is time.’

Frida had more questions, so many more, but as the water eased her aching limbs, it all drifted away. They sat in companionable silence, framed in that thyme-scented steam. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Moth, lazily weaving a hoary pattern across Dian’s left elbow, catching little curls of moss from the floor and placing them in tasteful arrangements. Frida was finally working out some of the stains on her uniform and thinking dreamily about asking Dian if they would mind if she ditched the disgusting garment altogether and went full on swimming, when Dian’s voice cut through the calm.

‘They were my blood-kin. Born from the same root. Gia, we called them.’

Frida froze, her fingers bunched against a stiff wine-coloured stain along her right thigh – probably from Lucky’s unfortunate cow. How long ago that seemed now. Dian cast a hooded look in her direction. She blinked when she saw tracks of silver tears running off the tip of their aquiline nose. Her hands stilled.

‘They got taken by a human.’ Dian’s voice was unsteady, hollow as winter fog. ‘At first, they thought the human wanted to be their friend. They were curious. But then one day, Gia disappeared. It was Gia who was meant to be the hawthorn’s guardian. Gia who was born first. This was meant to be their legacy. They would never have gone by choice.’

A tremble ran through her bones.

‘The human took them,’ Dian repeated, harsher, like a tree cracking. The darkness made their eyes look sunken. The mist spun through their hair. Not just Emerald City green, but all the greens there were possible to be. ‘Gia . . .’ Their throat worked as they tried to speak. ‘They were meant to be the guardian! It was never meant to be me. I’m too young. Too flippant. Too weak.’ They said the words bitterly, as if someone had said these same things to them before. The unloving face of the oak-supreme filled her vision, and Frida’s anger roared.

‘Oh Dian,’ Moth chimed sadly. ‘There was nothing you could do, nothing anyone could have done.’

But Dian surged up from the pool, spraying droplets of water like crystals. ‘No. It’s the truth. I let my blood-kin get taken.’ Their voice cracked. ‘I am worthless, and I am weak. That is why they punish me. That is why they are so cruel. They blame me.’

Frida thought about what this fairy would become in two hundred years. Glitter unspooling from them in great tsunamis. Her hand lifted, then hovered there, unable to cross the distance between them. Her heart broke quietly in her chest. ‘You’re the opposite of weak, Dian.’

The shake of their head was so imperceptible, it almost wasn’t there. The shadows of a grief laid bare on their face, as raw and sharp as the bloody stumps of the terracotta dragon’s wings. She wondered if they might have hoped to find Gia at the house too. She had mistaken this Dian as unmarked by heartbreak, fooled because they seemed so much younger than the other Dian, who had been so visibly shattered. But she, of all people, should have known better.

‘We’re dying, Frida Rose. That – in there . . .’ They waved a trembling hand, indicating somewhere past the darkness. Back to Forge House. ‘That is our end.’

Frida opened and closed her mouth as the image of Dian’s future blazed over the backs of her eyelids. There was more truth in their words than they could have known. She knew that, and yet she still hadn’t told them. She’d been lying to them since the first. But after what they’d just shared – how vulnerable they’d made themselves to her – the idea of telling them now and seeing that truth twist into hatred . . .

Quickly, she struggled to her feet, warm water dripping off her. ‘It doesn’t have to be,’ she said, squaring her shoulders. ‘We can stop it.’

Melancholy seemed to wrap around them. ‘We?’ they breathed helplessly. ‘What are we going to do? I could barely survive walking through that human doorway. I do not have enough strength – I do not have the power of the others. We should go back to them and seek help, before they come unbidden.’

Frida’s eyes flashed. ‘Dian, your strength takes my fucking breath away.’

They jerked their head up, shocked.

‘But,’ she said as she lurched towards them across the velvet moss. ‘Maybe you’re right. You and Moth should find the others. I’m the human. It’s me who needs to go back there. I have to find out who knew about these wards.’ She almost quailed at the thought of leaving Dian behind, but she clenched her fists doggedly. ‘Maybe I’m wrong, but I think there’ll be someone in there, at least one person, who isn’t aware of what’s being done in that laboratory. Someone who will be able to help us.’ The faces of the people she’d admired flashed before her eyes. The wild curls of Georgiana’s red locks, the tilt of Sir Joshua’s wide chestnut eyes. She angled her head towards the shadows, finding strength there. She refused to believe that she was wrong. ‘All I need from you is a ride back to the grounds. Then you can go and tell the others what we discovered. Just like you wanted to do originally. Maybe you could check on Lucky, too, to see if he’s ok. But Dian, honestly. You’ve done all you need to.’

Dian was staring at her with astonishment. ‘What?’ they spluttered.

Frida was already struggling back into her boots. The longer she stayed here, the harder it would be to leave. ‘It’s true, Dian. You know it. I’d never ask you to go into that house yourself. It’ll be full of humans. It’ll be torture for you.’

Dian flinched. The fawn and bronze of their cheeks had blanched.

Frida’s teeth were so tightly clenched, it hurt. She didn’t dare say anything else though, for fear that she’d lose her nerve. That she’d beg them to come with her. But as much as she didn’t want them to leave, the idea of going into Forge House with them – somehow the fear of that was a thousand times worse. Not because of what they’d do anymore, but because of what the house might do to them.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Go back to the others. Tell them what you know.’

Moth had paused on Dian’s elbow, and Frida could just see his black eyes shining. Waiting to see what Dian would say.

‘They’ll want to attack that place,’ Dian said finally, with enough uncertainty to make her want to take them in her arms.